


Turbulence and Clumsiness

by Please_Tommy_Please



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Airplanes, Also Meet-Ugly, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fear of Flying, M/M, Meet-Cute, Newt is a concerned boi™, Sonya ships it, Thomas is clumsy, protecc him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 11:18:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15095615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Please_Tommy_Please/pseuds/Please_Tommy_Please
Summary: Newt and his sister, Sonya, are on a direct flight from London to Denver. They meet a rather clumsy and quite talkative stranger.





	Turbulence and Clumsiness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HisHighnessCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HisHighnessCat/gifts).



Newt _hated_ flying.

The height, the turbulence, the subpar food, the wailing babies, the way his ears popped coming up and going down, all of it.

The flight from Heathrow to Denver International was a direct one, meaning ten hours of flying nonstop.

It had been about six and a half hours, and Newt was beginning to stress himself out with possible scenarios of fiery death.

Sonya reached over and shook his arm. Newt pressed his lips together and looked at her.

"You need to calm down. We're fine," she said, and despite the nonchalance in her voice, the concern in her eyes was clear.

Newt remembered the look on her face after she'd rushed into his hospital room and spotted him in the bed with his leg in a thick cast.

Heights.

Newt had never been good with them.

"I'm fine," Newt said. "I just don't—"

The plane shook, turbulence rocking him in his seat, and Newt gritted his teeth as his stomach flipped.

The seatbelt sign flashed on overhead, but Newt was already buckled in. People who got up and walked around in-flight were shucked in the head, as far as he was concerned.

The shaking smoothed out after a few moments.

Newt swallowed hard, and Sonya patted him on the arm.

Just before he could speak, something heavy handed on his shoulder.

Newt craned his neck to look, only to find himself staring at a dark mop of hair.

The stranger next to him had fallen asleep, and apparently he had deemed Newt's shoulder as a more comfortable pillow than the one provided by the flight attendant.

"Sonya, help," Newt whispered, turning to look at her. He gestured with his free hand.

She snorted and shook her head. "Deal with it yourself. In fact, I'm going to use the restroom."

Newt made a sound of protest, but it did nothing to deter her from leaving.

"Guess I'm just stuck with you, then," Newt said to the stranger.

He didn't even stir.

A baby started screaming a few seats up.

Newt leaned his head back against the seat, closed his eyes, and prayed for the flight to go by quicker.

* * *

Newt dozed on and off for an indeterminable amount of time, somewhere between sleeping and not.

He was just beginning to fall into a deeper sleep when Sonya shook him awake.

He blinked his tired eyes and stared at her.

"I'm sorry to wake you, but they brought breakfast."

Newt turned his bleary gaze to the tiny tray in front of him, and sure enough, there was a small breakfast box.

His stomach tightened, and the thought of eating suddenly made him nauseous. He pushed the box towards Sonya, who had evidently already eaten her own.

"You have it. I'm not hungry."

She frowned, but accepted the extra food regardless.

Newt debated on how to spend the remaining three hours of the flight. He could watch a movie, listen to his music, read, or attempt to sleep some more.

Newt was still debating this, eyes wandering, when he noticed that the seat next to him was empty.

" _Everyone please buckle your seat belts. Nothing to worry about, just going to be a bit of bumpiness up ahead._ "

Newt rubbed the sleep from his eyes, feeling more drained than before he ever fell asleep. He reached forward to tap the screen on the back of the chair, intent on watching _The Incredibles_ , or something equally as entertaining.

The movie was about two minutes in when the plane rocked violently.

Newt cried out at the sudden blisteringly hot liquid splashing across his arms and lap.

A few drops flew up to hit his cheek, and Newt winced, wanting to pull his arms toward his body but instead holding them out away from himself.

The paper cup laid upside down on his lap, his jeans and shirt soaked with coffee.

"Oh fuck, I am _so_ sorry," someone began.

The plane trembled again, and Newt struggled to tamp down the growing hysteria blooming in his stomach.

"I'm so, so sorry, the turbulence, and I wasn't, I didn't mean to—"

"Just stop," Newt growled, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I'll go get paper towels," Sonya said in a rush. Newt heard her seat belt click as she unbuckled, and his eyes flew open.

He lunged over and grabbed her wrist, tugging her back into the seat.

"No, you're supposed to stay buckled up," he said, panic bubbling up in his throat.

Sonya shook away his grip impatiently. "No, you need to clean off your arms and shirt before it dries."

She stalked away to the bathroom, and Newt clamped his eyes shut, overwhelmed by the pain and the shaking of the airplane and the guy who was _still fucking talking_ and—

"—no really I'm _so_ sorry, oh my god. I didn't mean to, I just...are you okay?"

"No, I'm not bloody okay," Newt choked out, releasing a shaky breath and trying to ignore the throbbing across his forearms.

There was a small rustling sound beside him, and Newt opened his eyes to see the guy who'd dumped his coffee on him sitting down.

It was the same guy who'd slept on him earlier.

His expression was equally sheepish and worried. He slowly reached over to take the empty paper cup from Newt's lap.

"Is there, uh...anything I can do to help?"

"Sit still and stop talking," Newt said through gritted teeth. He swallowed. "And buckle up, you bloody shuck-face."

The stranger did as he was told without complaint, and Sonya was quick to return with a handful of paper towels.

The turbulence slowly died down.

"Here," Sonya said, thrusting the paper towels towards him. Newt dragged them over his arms and pressed a wad against his lap, attempting to soak up the cooling brown liquid.

Sonya tutted under her breath. "You're gonna have some burns."

"No shit," Newt grumbled, looking over his bright red arms and the huge, dark stain on his jeans. His shirt was also wet, but it was black and less noticeable.

"I really am sorry," the stranger said, and Newt could tell he was being sincere.

He turned to him, quirking an eyebrow.

"What's your name?"

The stranger blinked. "Uhh, Thomas."

"Well, Thomas," Newt began, "you owe me a change of trousers, if you have 'em, and an explanation as to why you were in London, as you're clearly American."

Thomas blinked again. "Oh, uhh, sure."

He stood, pulled his backpack down from the overhead compartment, and rummaged through it. He held out a pair of gym shorts.

"It's the best I've got," he said apologetically.

Newt accepted the shorts and unbuckled. He stood on wobbly legs and somehow managed to get to the bathroom without incident, using the sink to wash the stickiness from his arms.

He changed quickly and made his way back, his jeans rolled into a tiny ball. He tucked them into his bag, stepped past Sonya, buckled back up, and turned to face Thomas.

"Well?" he said.

Thomas talked for the remaining two and a half hours of the flight, and Newt barely even noticed them landing, he was so invested.

He pulled at the band of the shorts. "Shit. How am I supposed to get these back to you?"

"Well," Thomas began slowly. "Do you have a pen?"

Sonya held hers over to him without speaking a word. She'd been oddly silent since the coffee-spill, listening to music and writing in her journal.

Thomas clicked the pen a few times, then took Newt's hand, flipping it over to reveal his palm.

"Here's my number. Text me, and maybe we can set up a meeting for you to return my shorts."

Thomas scrawled out his number quickly and efficiently, and gave the pen back to Sonya over Newt's shoulder.

Newt watched as he gathered his things from the overhead compartment. Thomas shouldered his bag and gave Newt a sly wink.

"And don't worry. I'll buy you a coffee to make up for all that," he said, and gestured to Newt's still-drying shirt.

"I prefer tea," Newt said.

Thomas cracked a smile.

"Tea it is, then."


End file.
